Lost Times
by Ph0enixS0ng
Summary: Theoden's only son and heir, Theodred, died in battle, so the king names his nephew, Eomer, as his successor. The time for Eomer's coronation has finally come, but he does not feel that it is his place to be named king.


**Title: **_Lost Times_

**Author:** _AznEyes_

**Rated:**K+

**Genre:**Drama General

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien

**Summary:**Theoden's only son and heir, Theodred, died in battle and the king named his nephew, Eomer, as his successor. The time for Eomer's coronation has finally come, but he does not feel that it is his place to be named king. One shot.

**Author's Note: **This fic is based on the LOTR movies, not the books (the details differ significantly). The information on Theodred was found on Wikipedia under "Théodred". Also, the coronation ceremony is loosely based on that of Queen Elizabeth II. Enjoy!

Eomer self-consciously surveyed his reflection in the full-length mirror. His long blond hair had been freed from its knots and carefully tied back from his face with a strip of leather. He was dressed in a silk, forest green tunic and metal chainmail, which had been scoured and polished. On his arms were leather vambraces, ornamented with metal plates bearing symbols of the Rohirrim. And on his chest was a metal breastplate, displaying a white galloping horse, another symbol of Rohan.

'I feel like a fool,' he muttered to himself. The only things that he felt comfortable in were his riding boots, although they, too, had been cleaned and polished to perfection.

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door.

'Eomer?' someone called. 'May I enter?'

Knowing who it was, Eomer replied, 'You can come in, Eowyn.'

The door opened and his sister entered the bedchambers.

'They are almost ready for you, Eomer,' she said with a smile.

She, too, was wearing ceremonial garb for the coronation. However, unlike Eomer, she appeared to be completely comfortable. Eowyn was wearing a light, white dress with long, flowing sleeves, similar to that which she usually wore. This one, however, had silver and gold detailing along the low neckline, as well as embroidered designs all along the cloth itself. Her hair was braided away from her face and twisted into an elaborate style at the base of her neck.

'Thank you,' Eomer said, leaning in to give her a greeting kiss on the cheek. 'You look wonderful.'

Eowyn blushed.

'Thank you. Faramir liked it as well.'

'I'm sure he does, but he's more likely thinking how fast he can get it off you,' Eomer said with a wink.

'Brother!' Eowyn cried out in embarrassment, slapping him on the arm. 'Don't tease me!' Then, as if to change the subject, she said, 'You look wonderful as well.'

'Albeit uncomfortable,' Eomer said, shifting his weight from one foot to the next, as if that would help.

'Truly? But is it not similar to the armor you wear in battle?'

'Similar, aye,' Eomer agreed, 'but not the same. I feel as if I am on display in a horse show.'

'But do not worry, the test for grooming does not come until the end,' Eowyn teased.

'All I can do is worry.' Eomer sighed and turned back towards the mirror. 'Look at me, Eowyn,' he said slowly. 'I am to be king . . . King of all Rohan.'

'You will make a fine leader. You are just and fair, Brother. Uncle could not have chosen a better successor.'

'And Theodred?' Eomer questioned, voicing, for the first time, the growing concern in his heart.

Eowyn stiffened.

'You know what I meant,' she said. 'Uncle would be very proud of you – Theodred as well.'

'Mayhaps, but I still do not feel that it is my place to be there, to be the one accepting the crown!' Eomer threw his hands up in frustration. 'Who gave me the right to do such?!'

'Our uncle – the king – did!' Eowyn firmly reminded him. 'Theodred was his only son and heir and now he is . . . he is gone.'

'But he should not be,' Eomer said, crumpling into a chair.

'Nay, he should not,' his sister agreed. 'But there is nothing we can do about it anymore. We did all we could . . . in the circumstances!'

'And it was not enough. I should have found him sooner, Sister.'

'You did not know what would happen. You did not know that he and his party would be ambushed by orcs. We are lucky that you found him when you did. At least we had the opportunity to say . . .' She cleared her throat anxiously. '. . . goodbye.' Eowyn sat down in a chair beside him. 'After you brought him back, I held his hand.' She blankly gazed at the carpet, lost in memory. 'It was so cold – like ice. I kept willing blood back into it, for it to grow warm and reassure me that there was still hope, that he would live!'

Eomer rubbed her back comfortingly.

'But it did not happen,' Eowyn continued. 'No matter how much I willed it, he would not come back . . . But when I looked at his face, it appeared so peaceful, as if he was just sleeping.' She closed her eyes. 'Theodred was able to make his peace with the world, Eomer. Can you?'

Eomer did not look at her, nor did he answer her question.

'I found him, our cousin, amongst the fallen corpses of his comrades. He was scarcely breathing and bleeding heavily from a wound in his chest.' Tears welled up in his eyes. 'It hurts to know that he suffered so. I loved him as I would a brother, Eowyn. We grew up together, we trained together, we rode together . . . and to know that he suffered so much breaks my heart.'

Eowyn opened her eyes and laid a reassuring hand on her brother's shoulder.

'I miss him, Sister.'

'I miss him, too,' Eowyn said. 'He will not want us to forget him, but neither would he want us to remember him so intensely that we forget to live ourselves.'

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for some time, then Eowyn said, 'Come, Brother, it is time.'

Eomer nodded and followed his sister towards the Great Hall, where the coronation ceremony would be held.

'Lord Eomer,' a ward said in greeting when the pair reached the Hall; he opened the doors.

There was a sudden wave of cheering when the people of Rohan welcomed their king-to-be.

Eomer forced a smile on his face as he made his way along the roped-off aisle, towards a platform that was erected at the other end of the Hall. When he finally stood on the platform and faced the people – his people – the noise died down and the crowd settled in to listen to the High Chancellor as he read out the Recognition to the people.

'I present unto you King Eomer, your undoubted King: wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage and service, are you willing to do the same?'

'Hail, King Eomer!' the crowd cried out in reply.

"_King _Eomer," Eomer thought. "King . . . It is naught but a word to me, much less a title. As honourable a position as it may be, it is not one that I deserve."

The High Chancellor now turned to Eomer.

'Is your Majesty willing to take the Oath?'

'I am willing,' Eomer said softly.

'Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of Rohan and of your Possessions and other Territories belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs?'

'I will,' Eomer replied, all the while thinking, "I should not be the one accepting Theodred's birthright. I should not be the one accepting the crown."

And so the Oath continued

When the last statement had been read out, Eomer said, 'All this I promise to do.'

"I can promise in words . . . but how many years will pass before I can make the promise in my heart?"

The ceremony continued and Eomer was presented with a sword; a robe, too, was presented to him and draped over his shoulders. As the proceedings neared the end, Eomer allowed his mind to drift back to Theodred.

"Theodred," he thought. "My cousin, my blood . . . my brother . . . I still find it difficult to believe that you are gone . . . Why did you abandon us? Abandon _me_?"

Eomer bowed his head as the crown, the symbol of his royalty, was placed upon his head.

"Theodred, I expected to serve you as my superior . . ."

The crowd cheered rowdily.

'Hail, King Eomer! Long live the king!'

". . . not take your place on the throne . . ."


End file.
